


7 - “Rant to me, Baby.”

by Banashee



Series: Keep Going (KeGo) December 2019 [7]
Category: Marvel, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, crappy days
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-07
Updated: 2019-12-07
Packaged: 2021-02-26 00:35:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 684
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21704572
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Banashee/pseuds/Banashee
Summary: Some days are just shit - everything goes wrong. But when Clint is home, Phil knows just how to make him feel better (No porn, although that just made it sound like it)
Relationships: Clint Barton/Phil Coulson
Series: Keep Going (KeGo) December 2019 [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1558123
Comments: 7
Kudos: 56





	7 - “Rant to me, Baby.”

**Author's Note:**

> This is part seven of this small writing challenge that @Banana_Ink and I cooked up.  
> Basically, we came up with 24 prompts, which means 24 stories for 24 days in december. A way to cope with NaNoWriMo trauma, but also something short, sweet and relaxed to keep up a writing habit without stressing too much.
> 
> Check out the prompts, and most of all @Banana_Ink as well! She will be writing for her BNHA AU.
> 
> https://banashee.tumblr.com/post/189288814786/keep-going-december-kego

**7 - “Rant to me, Baby.”**

“Honey, I'm home!”

Phil just got in from a two-day mission and locks the door behind him. Then re-activates the alarms and sensors. No answer. Maybe Clint doesn't wear his ears?

Phil calls again, but the apartment remains dark and silent. He looks down onto the floor, where the familiar pair of combat boots is piled next to a pale green military duffel bag and the pair of purple converse he likes to wear in his free time, so Clint should be home. Phil toes off his own shoes and enters the dark living room, walks across it and then into the equally dark bedroom. Even in the low light from outside he can make out the lump under the blankets that contains his partner. He steps closer and sits down on the bed, carefully placing a hand on top of the blankets. It stirs underneath them, and Phil taps out their usual rhythm for situations like this.

It means “Do you have your ears in and wanna talk?”.

“ 'm fine, just having a shit day.” grumbles Clint from under 20 blankets. One of his hands creeps out to get a hold of Phil though, who gets the hint and lies down next to Clint, who shuffles closer and spreads the blankets over both of them. Phil presses a quick kiss into his hair.

“Rant to me, Baby.” he says, a little hint of teasing in his voice. Just a bit, to keep his tone light, but never enough to make it sounds like he's mocking because Clint's definition of “fine” is debatable at best and he's not sure what sort of “shit day” he's dealing with, yet.

“Urgh. I overslept, was late. Attended two of the worst meetings I've ever seen in my entire life, wanted to put a ballpoint pen in my brain to make it stop after the first 30 minutes. Coffee machine in the break room didn't work. It splurted boiling hot water all over the place, so we had to make do with the gross canteen shit. Lunch. It was mystery meat day, so I skipped that. Weapon training with the juniors later. One of 'em accidentally shot his pal in the leg so that's fucking great. He's pissed and in medical. No time for sparring, Fury called a last minute meeting about boring but important things. Went home, attempted to cook dinner. Kept dropping shit and decided I was done. So here I am. Shit day.”

Clint keeps running one of his hands over his partners neck and back muscles. It feels good to have him back home and to be able to let go. They didn't have much time for each other each other lately, and they devour every minute of it.

“Sounds like a good time for a vacation.” Phil answers, lightly scratching at the nape Clint's neck. He gets a low hum in response and keeps going, digging in and mussing up the dark blond fuzz.

“Any plans, wishes?” Phil asks, and Clint slightly turns at that.

“Wait, you're serious?” He sounds surprised. Like he didn't expect a vacation to be an actual option.

Phil blinks. “Yes, of course. It's been years since any of us had any time off that wasn't forced or medical leave. They owe us. Knowing Nick, he'll happily sign off on it if it gets us out of his sight for a few weeks.”

There is a long beat of silence after that

“Anything as long as there is a beach and a minimal amount of people?” Clint asks, and he sounds a lot happier than before. There even is a small smile creeping into his voice.

“We can absolutely do that.”

“Hmmm perfect.” Clint snuggles closer, and wrapped up around each other, both of them fall asleep for an hour or two.

Then they order takeout. While they wait for the food to arrive, they start researching appropriate vacation destinations on the couch with the fireplace burning and Clint already feels much, much lighter.

Leave it to Phil to always make him feel better.


End file.
